


Keeping It Professional

by inksie



Category: Westworld (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-29
Updated: 2018-11-08
Packaged: 2019-08-09 12:50:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 5,885
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16450295
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inksie/pseuds/inksie
Summary: When Lee Sizemore meets you, he's instantly taken aback, and he falls for you, hard and fast; however, things grow complicated when he finds out that Robert Ford, his boss, is your father.





	1. A Chance Encounter

Walking through the streets, Lee was glad that he had been given a few days off from work, as it gave him a chance to muster up all of his genius and focus on working on his new narrative for Westworld; the air was cold and crisp, as was to be expected on an October morning, the sky was grey and cloudy, its specks of blue vague and distant, the sun was nowhere to be seen. He looked at the faces of those he passed, like the woman with the child who was crying, the old man sitting by himself in the cafe, the group of teenagers smoking a joint in the car park; he hummed softly to himself, and looked around before heading into the coffee shop he regularly visited. The barista was a young man, bearded, light grey eyes, thick blonde hair, he looked like he had not slept in years, and his hands trembled as he made Lee's coffee. 

"Five fifty, sir." 

Lee only nodded, and passed the money to the barista, but not before tipping him an extra five pounds; he grabbed his coffee, then, and walked out, deciding to head home and try to write something, anything, that his genius would allow. Looking to his left, Lee saw a dog-park, and thought about how it could perhaps influence his new narrative, so he shrugged, and found a bench to sit on; he wasn't sat there for very long until a dog came bounding up to him. It was a large, black, mutt with huge teeth and large brown eyes, a white splodge on its chest and a few patches of white and grey on its paws and muzzles. It sat at his feet, and wagged its tail. 

* * *

You had taken your dog, a large, black, mutt called Brian, to the dog park for the day, as you intended on visiting your father, Robert Ford, at his workplace, and the park just so happened to be nearby; you let Brian off, and allowed him to run around and chase a stick, but when you turned your back, you couldn't see him. 

"Brian!" You called, bubbling anxiety in your chest as you tried to find your faithful hound; it was then that you saw him sat at some poor man's feet, wagging his tail, and immediately, you ran over, and grabbed the dog by his collar. "I'm so sorry, mate, I-"

"It's fine," the man shrugged, smiling reassuringly. "He's no trouble."

"Still," you chuckled nervously, letting go of the dog's collar and rubbing the back of your neck. 

"What's his name?" The stranger asked, reaching out and scratching Brian behind the ears, prompting the dog to stamp his foot and wag his tail harshly in appreciation. 

"Brian," you replied, "mind if I sit with you?"

"Sure," the man nodded, moving up a little on the bench so that you could sit down. "I'm Lee, by the way."

"I'm (Y/N)," you said, shaking his hand. "Never seen you around here before."

"I've never been here before," Lee admitted. "I don't even have a fucking dog."

"You can borrow mine, if you want," you joked, watching as Brian ran off; he picked up a stick in his mouth, wagging his tail with his head tilted a little, and brought it back to you. He dropped it at Lee's feet, and sat patiently, waiting for him to throw it, only to bolt off when he did. 

"I might take you up on that offer," he tittered, taking a sip from his coffee and nodding. "This might sound fucking weird, but do you mind if I grab your number?"

"Yeah, sure," you nodded, trying not to smile. "But, only if I can have yours."

* * *

You and Lee ended up spending hours talking, you discovered that he was a writer by profession, and that he didn't live too far away; he was quite arrogant, though, but for some reason, you liked it, you liked the way his eyes would light up when he talked oh-so-proudly about his work, you liked the way his lips curved up in a smile when he was being cocky, and you hated that you had to leave to go and see your father. When you met your father at his workplace, though, you immediately began to tell him all about it, even on the car ride home with Brian sat in the backseat, you continued to tell Robert all about Lee, and how funny he was, and everything in between. 

"So, I take it you had a good day, then," your father chuckled as he tossed a packet of cigarettes your way. 

"Amazing," you told him with a smile. "How was your day, anyway, Dad? Anything new?"

"Well, the narrative writer, Sizemore, he's taking a couple of days off," he explained, "it's for the best, really, that man's been blasting out the same song from his office day in day out, and it's driving me insane."

"You love him, really," you chuckled; for years, your father had been complaining about Sizemore playing 'Boss Ass Bitch' on repeat from his office, and for years, you had always joked about him loving it despite the fact that he so blatantly hated it. 

"Like a hole in the head, dear," your father tittered, shaking his head. "He's like a child, sometimes, I swear - but, forget all that, what do you want for tea?"

"I dunno," you shrugged, rolling down your window and lighting up a cigarette. "Maybe, uh, fish and chips?"

"You had that last night," Robert sighed. "How about a fish curry?"

"That'll do," you nodded. "Cheers, Dad."

 

 


	2. Who Your Dad Hates

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When your friend, Logan, comes to visit for once, you know you have to talk to him about the events of the previous day.

The Delos family had always been close to the Ford family, Robert, your father, was good friends with James, the patriarch of the Delos lot, so naturally, you and Logan were good friends; you told him everything, and even though he could be a bit of an asshole from time to time, he was your best friend at the end of the day, and you trusted him more than anything and anyone else in the world, even Brian. Logan didn't visit often, only from time to time, but every time he did, the two of you always ended up getting drunk while in the fields behind your father's house, sometimes even getting high on weed when he brought some with him; tonight, luckily, both of you had to stay sober, as in the morning, you both had places to be, and a hangover was far from welcomed, so as the two of you got to the bottom of the first field, you collapsed on the grass beside one another, and sighed. 

"You're hiding something," Logan said, turning to look at you and raising a brow. "What is it?"

"How the fuck do you know I'm hiding something?" You chuckled, furrowing your brows at him. 

"Please, I've known you since we were little, (Y/N)," he scoffed, rolling his eyes. "C'mon, cough it up."

"Alright, fine," you caved, sitting up straight. "I kinda met a guy."

"Kinda?" Logan prompted. 

"Okay, I did," you sighed, "yesterday, I was up the dog park with Brian, and he ran off and sat at this guy's feet, and we got to talking, and I have his number, and-"

"Do you have a picture?" He asked, allowing you to straddle him and him the texts sent from your mystery man. "You realise who this is, right?"

"No," you shook your head. "Who?"

"That's Lee Sizemore," Logan told you. "As in, the guy who works for your dad, who your dad fucking hates."

"Nah!" You scoffed, shaking your head. "It can't be."

"It is," he nodded. "I should know, (Y/N)."

"Fuck," you breathed out, collapsing on your friend's chest and holding on tightly to his t-shirt. "Fuck, Logan, the fuck do I do?"

"Do what you want," your best friend told you. "It's your life."

"You're right," you admitted. 

"As always." Logan snickered. 

* * *

That very night, when you and Logan went back into the house, you sat up in your room with him, and drafted a text to send to Lee; you figured that, if your father didn't know who Lee really was, then things would be alright, but you were still nervous, and you needed the suave, charming, input from Logan in order to text him. 

> _Hey, it's (Y/N), from the dog park yesterday... I was wondering if you wanted to come out some time?_

You waited in agony for around two minutes before Lee replied. 

> _Sure. I'll pick you up at the dog park at around 7, I know this really nice place we can go._

"Logan!" You squealed, throwing your phone at him and burying your head in his shoulder. "Help!"

"Let's see what we're dealing with..." he mused, taking a quick look at the texts and smirking. "He likes you, for some reason."

"Shut up and text him for me..." you mumbled, gripping onto his shirt and shaking him. 

"Alright, alright!" Logan chuckled, shaking his head. 

> _Sounds great! I'll see you then._

"There," Logan passed your phone back and rolled his eyes. "It's done."

"This, this right here, is why you're my best friend," you smiled, kissing his cheek. "I owe you one."

 


	3. The Date

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Due to Logan's help, you and Lee go on a date.

The next night, you told your father that you were going out with Libby, a friend from childhood, in order to avoid any suspicion about meeting up with Lee; not that you needed to, but you felt like if you had told him, then he would start being overprotective like he used to be. You left the house at around six o'clock, and at seven, Lee picked you up at the dog park; he drove you out to this incredibly posh part of town, and stopped outside of a restaurant. Outside, it had glittering lights, illuminating it like a bright star, a canopy over the entrance made of red silk and held up by what seemed to be pillars of solid gold, a perfectly crimson carpet rolled out, the sound of sweet jazz echoed from the inside, as did the smell of something wonderful that you couldn't quite put your finger on, stepping out of the car, Lee walked around it, and opened your door for you with a proud smile before offering you his arm and passing his keys to the valet; he lead you inside, and upon seeing the hostess, he cleared his throat. 

"Table for two," Lee told her. "Sizemore."

"Right this way, Mister Sizemore," she smiled warmly at you both, and guided you toward the back of the restaurant; she stopped at one in particular, which was secluded but not isolated, it was cosy, and warm, and as you sat across from Lee, you couldn't help but to smile a little. The hostess then cleared her throat, and smiled. "Would you like to see the wine list?"

"Yes, please," Lee answered, thanking the woman after she had walked off and returned with two menus as well as the wine list. "White, red, or rose?"

"Uh..." you tried to think which one it was that your father always drank, the bitter one that you liked. "Red."

"Alright," he nodded, smiling at you for a second before letting the hostess know, she nodded, and assured you that she would be back in a moment; when she was gone, Lee grabbed your hand across the table, and began to move his thumb across your knuckles gently. "I'm not gonna sit here and lie through my fucking teeth, but, this is the first time in a really fucking long while that I've been out with someone."

"That's fine," you reassured, shrugging. "To be fair, I can't remember the last night I went out with anyone."

"Let me guess..." Lee let go of your hand, then, and sat back in his seat with a cocky smirk. "Your father won't let you be with anyone because he doesn't like the thought of his little, precious, baby girl growing up?"

"Something like that," you admitted with a snicker. "How'd you guess?"

"Well, for starters, I'm a fucking genius, love," he shrugged, smirking proudly. "Secondly, the Devil's in the details."

"What details?" You asked, amused and curious at his words. 

"Well, first of all, when we met, you told me that your father was rich," he explained, "and that he worked for a large company as well as spending days away from home at a time. This, naturally, means that he doesn't get to see you as often as he should like, and thus, means that he's protective of you. You're also an only child, which reinforces his parental instincts to protect you as his only offspring. See? Devil's in the details, love."

"Damn," you chuckled, slightly taken aback. "You weren't joking when you said you were a genius, were you?"

"Absolutely the fuck not." Lee grinned, leaning forward again and chuckling along with you; it was then that the hostess returned and placed two glasses down before filling them with wine, she asked if she should leave the bottle, and when Lee agreed, she asked if either of you were ready to eat. "I haven't even looked at the fucking menu, have you, (Y/N)?"

"Not yet," you admitted, offering an apologetic look to the hostess, who simply nodded; she had seen it all before, couples on their first date who were so wrapped up in one another that they forgot even the simplest things, and she couldn't help but to smile at it. 

"That's fine," she reassured, nodding. "I'll give you a few more minutes."

"Thank you," you sighed, chuckling softly and finally taking a look at the menu; every single class of food, from caviar and quail to fish and chips and jacket potatoes. One thing in particular caught your eye, though, something your father used to make you for tea whenever you were sad, a dish that never failed to bring a smile to your face: salmon parcels, with mashed potatoes and a side of peas.

"You decided yet?" Lee hummed, watching your facial expressions and your eyes and your lips carefully, drinking in the sight of you as well as studying the way you looked when you thought; honestly, he had a hard time denying that he thought you were beautiful, and he was curious about you. 

"I have, yeah," you nodded. "Have you?" 

"I was gonna have the leek soup," he replied, "you?"

"Salmon parcels," you told him with a curt nod as you closed the menu and put it aside before grabbing your glass of wine and taking a sip. "Y'know, the last time I had wine was at my mate's birthday."

"Let me guess," he smirked. "It was your mate Logan, the one you told me about."

"Yeah," you chuckled. "He's probably my only friend in the world, to be honest. Apart from Libby."

"Not anymore, love." Lee tittered. "You got me, now."

* * *

After dinner, which was absolutely magnificent, you and Lee decided to go for a walk through town; it was quiet, as was to be expected on a Thursday night, and most of the streetlights were still off, meaning that the stars could be seen. They were gorgeous, like fairy lights twinkling in the sky, with the moon shining so brightly and beautifully that it was almost breathtaking; you had your arm linked to Lee's, and your hand rested on his bicep while his free hand was tucked inside of his pocket. The two of you talked and talked for hours, and when you questioned about him leaving his car with the restaurant, he shrugged, and admitted that he had texted his friend earlier and asked them to pick it for him. Eventually, the two of you found your way back to the dog park, and when you checked the time, you knew it was time to leave, which made your heart sink; you wanted to spend more time with Lee, but you knew that you shouldn't, you knew it was time to go home. 

"I had a really nice time tonight," you said softly. "Thank you, Lee."

"It's fine, (Y/N)," he shrugged, smiling down at you. "Can I see you again?"

"Yes!" You said hurriedly, before clearing your throat and nodding with a nervous chuckle. "I mean, uh, yeah. I'll text you when I'm free next."

He agreed to that, and leaned down before softly capturing your lips with his; he was dominant, yet not too harsh or bold, and as you kissed him back, his hands wrapped around your waist, and you buried your hands in his hair, allowing him to deepen the kiss and snake his tongue into your mouth, dominating you. He pulled away after a few minutes, then, and smiled. 

"Text me when you get home, love," he said, his words ghosting along your lips. "Alright?"

"Alright," you agreed. "I'll see you later, Lee."

 


	4. Surprise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After your date with Lee, you come home to a wonderful surprise.

When you got home, you texted Lee, and sat down in the living room with your father, who was reading through an old, beaten up, leather-bound, book; he asked you how your night was, and it took everything in your body not to squeal and rant on and on about how magnificent Lee was. 

"I'm glad you enjoyed yourself," Robert hummed, putting his book down and offering a small smile. "But, you should know, (Y/N), that there's a surprise in the kitchen for you."

"A surprise?" You questioned, rising up out of your seat and furrowing your brows as you walked into the kitchen; sat on the counter, was none other than Logan, who grinned and waved at you. "You absolute dick!"

"Love you, too," he teased, hugging you quickly and bringing you up to the counter beside him, he lowered his voice considerably so that your father wouldn't hear as he asked, "so how did it , go?"

"Amazing," you whispered, smiling like an utter imbecile. "He's so great, Logan, you wouldn't believe it, he's so smart, and he's-"

"Alright, calm the fuck down," Logan chuckled, rolling his eyes. "You gonna go out with him again?"

"Well, Dad goes away in a couple of days," you explained, "so, I was thinking, maybe, he could come over."

"That's risky," he hummed, a devilish smirk upon his lips. "My little (Y/N)'s growing up!"

"Shut up!" You giggled, slapping his bicep and shaking your head. "Asshole."

"You love me, really," Logan teased, nudging your shoulder with his own. "To be honest, I wasn't really expecting you to come home."

"You weren't?" You asked, furrowing your brows. 

"No!" He scoffed. "I was expecting you to go home with Sizemore."

"What're you two hens clucking about?" Robert asked as he walked into the room, looking between you and Logan with a raised brow. 

"Nothing," Logan shrugged. "I was just telling (Y/N) how I was gonna go to Westworld tomorrow to book in my next visit, and I asked if she wanted to come along with."

"You're not going in?" Your father hummed, pulling a mug out of a cupboard and walking over to where he kept the teabags, sugar, and coffee; he slowly put two bags into his mug, followed by two sugars, before placing it on the counter, and flicking the kettle on. 

"Nah," Logan shook his head. "Dad wants me at home."

"I shouldn't be surprised," Robert chuckled. "You're hardly ever at home, my boy."

"There's good reason for that, though," you and your best friend muttered with a side-glance at one another. 

"I know," your father nodded, sighing. "What time are the two of you heading off tomorrow, then?"

"Probably around nine-ish," Logan said casually. 

"Yeah, like you'll be up at nine!" You tittered. 

"You wanna place a bet on that?" Logan asked, mocking, yet a tinge of sincerity still lay in his voice. 

"Fuck it, why not?" You shrugged. "Twenty quid you won't be up."

"Twenty quid I will." 

Leaning against the counter with his arms folded, Robert watched you and Logan jokingly bicker, and he thought to himself about how you and Logan were really siblings; after all, the two of you had been raised together, brought up at each other's sides, so it was natural that you were best friends, but even your father could see that, deep down, you and Logan were really family. Not by blood, of course, but by soul. And Robert couldn't help but to smile at it, despite the twinge of sadness in his eyes as he remembered exactly why Logan spent so much time with you and him and home, and not at the Delos mansion. 

"Alright, you two, that's enough," Robert said eventually, calm but firm, shutting both you and Logan up immediately. 

"Sorry..." you and your best friend muttered quietly, looking like guilty children. 

"Logan, are you staying in the guest bedroom tonight?" Your father asked, turning around to face the kettle when it whistled; as he poured the water into his mug, you looked at Logan, and shrugged. 

"Yeah," he confirmed. "Why?"

"Just wondering," Robert told him, walking over to the fridge and grabbing the milk. "Now, I won't be here in the morning, I have to be in work for five, is that alright by both of you?"

"Yeah," you nodded. 

"Why the fuck wouldn't it be?" Logan chuckled, raising a brow. 

"I'm not sure, Logan," your father hummed, quickly stirring his tea before putting the milk back in the fridge and once again turning to you and your best friend. "Anyway, I need to head off to bed."

"Nos da, Dad," you smiled. 

"Night, Robert," Logan said, nearly warmly. As soon as your father was gone again, though, Logan turned to you, and devilishly smiled. "So, we are actually gonna go to Westworld tomorrow."

"Why do I sense a 'but' coming?"

" _But_ ," he grinned. "We're gonna go see your guy."

"Sizemore?" You whispered, furrowing your brows. 

"Fuck yeah!" He nodded. "But by ' _we_ ', I actually mean me... look, (Y/N), you've been on technically two dates with the guy, and I can tell you fucking like him, so, as your best friend, it's my duty to have a little talk with him before the third date."

"I dunno where you're getting that from, but alright," you chuckled. "Just don't, y'know, scare him off."

"Oh, please!" Logan scoffed. "I'm not gonna scare him off, I promise."

"So, what's the plan?"

"You're gonna go see your dad in his office, as normal, and I'm gonna go to the narrative department, and go see him."

"But, how're you gonna get access?"

"My last name's Delos, (Y/N), they have to give me whatever I want."

"Okay, true... but, Lee doesn't even know I know he works at Westworld, he doesn't even know you're a Delos - how're you gonna explain that?"

"Leave it to me, I got everything covered."


	5. Oh, Shit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You and Logan act on your plans... but not everything goes as it's supposed to.

You didn't get to sleep that night, despite tossing and turning and trying and begging to do so, there was a sinking anxiety in your chest that kept you up until the crack of dawn; just as you were about to fall asleep, Logan burst into your room and pounced on you. 

"Wake up!" He yowled, shaking you. "It's time!"

"Wha- oh, shit," you sighed, sitting up and yawning. 

"Christ," Logan chuckled, sitting beside you and frowning a little. "You look like shit."

"I know," you nodded, getting up out of bed and rifling through your wardrobe. "I didn't sleep last night."

"Nor me," he admitted. 

"Yeah, well, we can't all be as beautiful as you, Logan," you mumbled, just loud enough for your best friend to hear. "Can't we go tomorrow, instead?"

"Nope!" He shook his head and shrugged. "We said today. So we're gonna do it today."

"Ugh, fine," you muttered, pulling out a pair of black ripped jeans, an old band t-shirt, and your denim hoodie. "Hey, have you seen my gloves?"

"Coat pocket, left inside," Logan said expertly; he waited for you while you got changed in your en-suite bathroom, and then waited some more while you freshened up. When you stepped out of the bathroom, he clapped his hands together, and smiled. "Much better."

"Fuck you," you tittered tiredly, shaking your head. "C'mon, let's get this done and over with."

* * *

Robert was sitting in his office, trying to concentrate, but he could hear the pounding sound of 'Boss Ass Bitch' from the office upstairs, Lee's office, and it made him let out a low growl; slowly, he rose up out of his seat, and shook his head before heading up to the Narrative Department, the staff kept out of his way, not wanting to anger the boss. When Robert reached Lee's office, he pounded on the door, and barged in. 

"Sizemore!" He barked, catching the writer off-guard. "What the fuck do you think you're doing?"

"Thinking," Lee shrugged. 

"Do you want to keep your job?" Robert asked, folding his arms across his chest. 

"Yeah," Lee nodded. "Why?"

"Then I suggest you turn that racket down," Robert warned. 

"C'mon, Ford," Lee chided. "Don't ruin my good mood."

"What good mood?"

"I met someone," Lee explained, "she's amazing. Her name's (Y/N)-"

"(Y/N)?" Robert whispered, narrowing his eyes at the writer. 

"Yeah," he nodded. "Why? You know her?"

"That's my daughter!" Robert roared, voice like thunder and lightning, like the wrath of a god. 

"Oh, shit." Lee gulped. 

* * *

"Dad's calling me," you said, turning to Logan; the two of you were on the way to Westworld, but because you had stopped to buy Starbucks, you were taking the long way around, meaning that you would be at least another hour before you got there. "Should I answer?"

"Yeah," Logan nodded, furrowing his brows as you answered your phone. 

"Dad?" Your heart immediately sank with worry. "What's wrong? Did something happen?"

"Yes, something happened," your father growled on the other end. "Hurry up and get to my office. Now."

"Uh, alright," you nodded, you had heard the anger in his voice before he hung up, and straight away, you turned to your best friend. "He sounds pissed."

"Your dad's never pissed," he mused, just as confused and concerned as you were. "This has gotta be big. We should turn back and walk the quick way."

"You're fucking right." You sighed. 

* * *

Hurrying into your father's office with Logan hot on your heels, you stopped dead in your tracks; Lee was stood to the side looking like a guilty dog with a black eye, and although you wanted to rush over to him and check that he was fine, you couldn't. You stood there, pale, eyes wide, unable to form any words, even when Logan slammed into you and almost caused you both to fall over. 

"What's going on?" Logan asked, speaking for both yourself and him. 

"Sit." Robert barked, and immediately, you and Logan took a seat on chairs that had been set up for you both. "Explain, (Y/N)."

"Explain what, Dad?" You asked, furrowing your brows and looking at Lee out of the corner of your eye. 

"You and Sizemore." Your father growled. 

"I, uh, well, um-"

"We met at the dog park," Lee jumped in, giving you and reassuring look before he continued, "we got to talking, and we went on a date the other day. I didn't know (Y/N) was your daughter, Ford, I swear."

"What about you?" Robert questioned, looking directly at you; you had never seen your father so angry, so disappointed, so cold. "Did you know it was Sizemore?"

"Yes..." you admitted quietly. 

"But that was my fault," Logan spoke up, "I told (Y/N)."

"Logan, out." Robert growled. "I wish to speak to the... star-crossed... lovers by myself."

"Yes, Sir," Logan said quietly, getting up and laying his hand on your shoulder, he leaned down and whispered, "good luck." 

Your father waited, then, until Logan was gone, and that was when you realised how deeply in trouble you were. 

"Sizemore, I'm suspending you for two weeks," he began, "you'll be paid for that time, it starts the second you leave my office... as for you, (Y/N), if you lie to me again-"

"I get it, Dad..." you muttered quietly, keeping your gaze to the ground. "I understand."

"Good," Robert said before clearing his throat. "Now, both of you, out."

Like dogs with your tails tucked between your legs, you and Lee left your father's office and met Logan down in the lobby; he looked worried, despite trying not to show it. 

"How'd it go?" He asked. 

"We're in deep shit, mate," Lee sighed, draping one arm over your shoulders and pulling you close, kissing your temple and squeezing his eyes shut. 

"Yeah," you looked up at your boyfriend, and frowned. "What happened to your eye?"

"Your bloody dad," he told you. "Punched me when I told him I was seeing you."

"I'll speak to him," you assured. "But, to be fair, proves you were spot-on about what you said."

"Yeah, that's true," Lee chuckled. "The curse of always being right."

"So, are you two gonna carry on with seeing each other?" Logan asked curiously. "Or, is Daddy gonna get in the way?"

"Please never say that word again," you tittered, pushing Logan playfully. "But, I dunno - what do you think, Lee?"

"Fuck Ford!" Lee howled. "(Y/N), I really fucking like you, and I'm not gonna stop seeing you unless if you want me to."

 

 

 

 


	6. Stay With Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After dealing with your father, you end up at Lee's flat.

After a bit of a debate, you, Logan, and Lee decided to go sit up the field together; commonly, it was known as 'the airfield', as it was behind the airport, and it was surprisingly quiet for its location, giving you, your best friend and your boyfriend the perfect place to sit and talk without fear of being interrupted. You all sat in a circle on the cold grass, allowing the breeze to wash over you all as you pretended not to notice it, smoking cigarettes and chucking them into a nearby puddle. 

"Who knew Robert could deal out black eyes at his age?" Logan joked, gesturing to Lee's bruised eye. 

"I fucking didn't," Lee groaned, shaking his head. "It's like he was fucking possessed by Muhammad Ali!"

"He's a fighter," you shrugged, although you had to admit, you had not seen your father deal out such a punch in your entire life, and it was fairly surprising. "Besides, Dad's a good guy, he's just protective."

"To be fair, I should've seen it coming," Lee admitted. "But, why didn't you tell me, (Y/N)?"

"Honestly?" You sighed and shook your head. "I didn't want you to leave."

"I wouldn't've left," he said softly. "Not for love, nor money, nor fame."

"I know that, now," you hummed, leaning your head on his shoulder. "But I didn't, not when I first found out you worked for him."

"There is _one_ thing I wanna know, though," Lee admitted. "How the fuck did a Ford and a Delos become friends? Doesn't Robert hate the Delos family?"

"He hates my _dad_ ," Logan explained, "but, even then, he pretends to be his friend, just to keep up appearances."

"Plus, we were practically brought up together," you added, "and Logan's more of a Ford than a Delos, anyway."

"Think of me as (Y/N)'s bastard brother," he chuckled. 

"The bastard bit is especially true," you tittered, pulling out your packet of cigarettes and tossing it between you all; both Logan and Lee took one, and lit them up using your lighter. You lit your own as well and took a long drag. "Am dreading going home, lads."

"So am I," Logan agreed with a fracturing smile. 

"Why?" Lee asked, raising a brow. 

"My dad," you both answered. 

"We could all go to mine," Lee offered with a shrug. 

"I can't," Logan said, regret and woe in his voice. "It's Billy's birthday and Dad said he'd cut me off if I didn't show up, or if I wasn't sober."

"I could come yours, though," you said, turning to Lee with a little smile. 

"Don't you have to go as well?" He asked. 

"Nah," you shook your head and chuckled softly. "Billy can't stand me."

"Yeah, 'cause you told him to shove a rusty rake up his ass - sideways!" Logan cackled. 

"Only 'cause he had a go at me for not paying attention to him because _someone_ was making stupid faces across the damn room!" You defended with a roaring laugh; to Lee, your laugh was utterly infectious, yet also as beautiful as a field of daffodils, as captivating as a Van Gogh painting. You turned back to him, then, and smiled daftly. "So, if you want me to, I could come to yours."

"You sure you two can be trusted alone?" Logan asked with a teasing smirk. 

* * *

For a few more hours, until the evening began to cast a shadow over the field, you and Lee and Logan sat there, talking, smoking, laughing; you talked about life and love, death and hate, joy and depression, banter, old stories from yours and Logan's childhoods that made the three of you burst out into laughter, inside jokes - and everything in between. When Logan left, you and Lee began to trek back to his flat, his hand finding its way to yours and his fingers lacing with yours; you carried on talking about everything and nothing until you were sat on his sofa with a can of Red Bull and a cigarette. He sat beside you and shrugged off his blazer, chucking it aside without a care; his flat was stunningly beautiful, the walls shades of light blue and grey, a white shag rug in front of the black sofa, he had black marble in the kitchen area, then the rest of the flat's detail was pulled together with skirting and windowsills and coffee tables of white. 

"This place is gorgeous, Lee," you told him, awaiting the arrogant comment that was bound to leave his mouth. 

"I know. I decorated it myself."

"Your ego is bigger than the solar system," you bantered, rolling your eyes playfully. 

"Yeah," he agreed with a charming smile. "But, you love it, really."

"I'm not saying anything about that." You smiled, holding back a harsh giggle, but suddenly, you sighed, and shook your head. 

"What's wrong, love?" Lee asked softly, placing a hand on your knee, eyebrows furrowing as you looked at you with those beautiful dark blue-green eyes, stunning like the storming see, captivating like the roaring thunderstorms during winter; you bit your lip a little and shrugged. 

"I just..." you could feel your hands shake as you rested them atop Lee's. "I'm sorry for lying to you, I didn't want you to-"

"It's fine," he assured, all honesty and sincerity in his voice. "Believe me, love, it's fine... now, how about we grab something to eat, watch a few films, and get an early night?"

"You want me to stay over?" You questioned quietly, furrowing your brows; you had thought that he would have said that you needed to go home. 

"Yeah!" He nodded, that charming smile coming back across his lips. "But, if you don't want to, I can drive you home."

"No, I..." you nodded back at him, smiling and biting the inside of your lip. "I'd love to stay."


End file.
